Its been two days now since the arrival of Michael and Fola. I’ve been quite excited. You see, like me, Fola is crazy. She grew up on the streets and so she aint scared to do things she has set her mind to do. But I was quite surprised when I watched Michael carry her like a sack of potato, up the stairs to their room the day they arrived, because they didn’t come out again not until the next day.
And the usual Fola would have been out in a second causing mayhem and trying her possible best to get what she wants but she didn’t. She was probably tired from her trip. Who knows? Well today I’m in the hospital, watching Bello sleep. He hasn’t even twitched. It’s frustrating to watch. I looked at his eyes, willing him to wake up. But he didn’t. Why won’t he wake up?
Bello I stood beside Becky; she’s been here for like 20 minutes now just staring at me. She looks utterly sad. I looked at my body, why won’t my body receive my spirit, I don’t understand? And if I aint dead, why can’t my soul just go to heaven and be with God? This is getting really annoying. I bent my neck back to look to the ceiling speaking to God,
“you really need to do something. You need to either put me into my body, or take me to heaven. Seriously I’m tired of hanging around”. As I looked to the heavens to speak to my father, I felt Becky’ seat scrape back, indicating she was about to stand up, I watched as she stood up and picked up her fancy red handbag. She was dressed in a brown jumpsuit that had flowers on it. She looked lovely.
She walked to me as I was asleep or should I say in a coma on my bed, then she stood beside me staring down at me.
“You need to wake up” she said quietly, only for my ears. “We are all waiting for you. I am waiting for you”. Then she bent, kissed my forehead, stood straight again and then walked out of the room. I watched her as she left, my spirit wondering when all this will end.
“Nancy hurry up we’re late!” I yelled from the foot of the stairs. I’m currently waiting for her to hurry up and get down so we can leave. You see, we’ve resumed school, Nancy and I. Ever since that psycho’s escapades, we’ve stopped going to school. But now that he’s dead, and his accomplice (Jessica) is in prison enjoying prison confinement, we’re able to resume school without fear of getting kidnapped or killed. But right now, seriously I’m ready to kill someone. And that someone is Nancy.
Can you believe she is still upstairs getting ready? How long does it take a girl to get ready for school? I don’t get it. It’s just school, not a fashion parade.
“Nancy!” I yelled again from the top of my lungs. Then I rubbed my temples with my fingers closing my eyes, as I felt a headache rising up from the base of my brain up to the top.
“What?” I heard Nancy ask from the top of the stairs looking irritated and pissed off at the same time.
“Don’t give me that look. You’re the one wasting our time” I said to her in a hard tone. She harrumphed then said,
“You’re the one screaming my name like a banshee out of hell. What, a girl can’t get ready for school the right way again?” As she retorted she came down the stairs slowly, taking her sweet time doing so. I watched her legs descend slowly. I pictured pushing her down myself just so she could hurry up even if it’s just a little. My eyes came up to meet hers as she finally descended the last stairs. Then as slowly as she could she walked past me to the door. I watched her as she did so. I was boiling inside. With her school bag hanging on one side of her shoulders she was an image of annoyance.
She wasn’t like this before. But ever since she began to get comfortable with everyone in the house, she’s been annoying, like really annoying and stubborn. Well maybe annoying to me I don’t know about the rest.
“Can you walk a little bit faster?” I asked her as I walked behind her.
“No” she replied edgily still taking her time to walk. I paused in my steps. My eyes still following her. Then walking really, really fast, I zoomed past her; seriously I was like a race car. She span around in surprise as she felt me pass her. Then she faced forward again seeing me at the door.
“How? You where….when?” she stammered. Looking totally surprised as to how I got passed her so fast and to the door.
“You’re slower than a snail; a turtle is even faster than you. I don’t have time to waste waiting for you to get yourself to the door then to the car. If you don’t want to go to school, then stay home. I really don’t have time for this” then I walked out the door, closing it behind me. I didn’t even look back to see if she was behind me and I really don’t care. I’m totally fed up with her.
I sat on the edge of my window as I looked down. I’m like on the 3rd floor of the hospital and seeing the cars drive past each other reminds me that time waits for no one.
One day I was prepared, ready to tackle down Kingsley and end the nightmare we all have been going through and the next I’m in a coma staring down at my body of which is connected to so many tubes helping me to breathe. Life can be scary and totally unfair.
Wow, I have had somewhat of an interesting few weeks. Finding out my brother had a new victim and this victim was the maid to one of the most feared men in Lagos. This man owns a security agency and this man fears no one. This man also works hand in hand with the police whenever the police are in need of some extra help. And this man is called Michael smith. “Michael smith” even the name alone is intriguing and full of authority. I don’t know why my brother had to be a psycho.
Sometimes I ask myself if I am one. But I’ve come to realize that I’m not. My brother Kingsley was very smart, very cunning, very deceptive, and very weird. It started out in primary school in Abuja when he was 11 years old. He liked a girl in his class, and for him to get her attention, he would steal something of hers. Something she loves dearly then return it to her after a few days. Claiming he was the one that found it. He did this for a long time to the extent that the class just concluded that the girl is quite careless.
Now he didn’t like the class calling her careless, so he attacked the class too. He took their math’s note book a few days to exam and never returned it. It was awful. Parents were complaining to the school asking how their kid’s notebooks would just disappear like that, and it’s happening a few days to exam.
The school had no means of explaining. They didn’t even know how to start. At the end of the day, parents had to look for a way to help their kids; some borrowed the girl’s notebook for a day and made photocopies of it. While others borrowed my brothers own and mine. So the rest of the students were able to get a math’s book to study for the exams.
That wasn’t the only horrible thing my twin did at a young age. He is actually the cause of my parents being separated. For some reason he hated my dad, saying my dad is a horrible dad and that he doesn’t love his family the way he loves his job.
My dad was a trainer; he trained guys that wanted to become professional boxers. He was 6ft tall and huge with broad shoulders. My mum was the opposite of him. She was petite, had a good body figure and was really beautiful. So my dad usually stays late at work seeing as he has a lot of people to train and this takes a lot of his time from us.
My brother didn’t like it. So he cooked up a plan. He sent messages to my dad’s phone with his own phone hiding his number then acting as a young girl having a relationship with my dad. He sent tons of these messages to my dad. And then he also did a Photoshop of my dad naked with a girl. The girls face was removed. So no one knew who she was.
This went on for some time and my dad didn’t tell my mum. Now that’s the first mistake he made. He was supposed to tell my mum. Not telling her had painted him guilty. The moment my mum found out about it, she was heartbroken. And so with the help of her friends and family, she got a divorce, leaving my dad and us behind.
My brother was pissed. He thought she was going to take us along with her. But unfortunately for us she didn’t. She said us staying with our dad is better for us that she won’t be able to handle us by herself but that she would come and visit us and also we could be spending holidays with her. Well my brother was totally not down with that. That’s when the killing started.
Yes, my brother killed my mother, but he planned that for a few years, before he actually did it. His first kill was at the age of 18 and it was a perfect kill. The police couldn’t even figure it out. No one knew until I read his journal. Yes my freaky, psycho of a brother has a journal. It’s full of the dark horrible things he has done, this includes stealing and returning of the girl’s important stuff just to get her attention, stealing our classmate’s math’s notebook because they began to say the girl is careless, separating my parents and then killing my mother.
His plans were all written down and I read every one of them. I then made a copy of them and took them straight to the police. I know you’re wondering how I could have done it knowing he is my brother, my twin brother but I just couldn’t let him continue with all that he was doing and his journal had a list of names he had to cause havoc on. And well I was among these names. I don’t know why but my brother had a plan for me, a terrible plan too. So I had to do it, I had to take it to the police. Once the police got a hold of it, they began to make plans on how they’ll get my brother. But my brother had already figured out that I had seen his diary and that the police have seen it too. And so he fled.
I didn’t hear of him until when I came to Lagos. I was standing close to a shop when I saw my twin looking at a lady in a saloon I watched his face and I knew, I knew that the lady he was looking at was his next victim. I had to do something, I mean what will I tell God on judgment day when he asks me what I did to help a lady that was being stalked by my psycho of a brother. What will I tell him? Well I’ll have nothing to tell him, so for my own safety of having an eternity with God, I had to do something.
And so I followed my brother, I followed his every step and then I followed Ada. Finally I got to work with the team in order to get him, and now I am permanently working with them. And let me tell you the team is amazing, God fearing, and loyal to each other. I wouldn’t have asked for a better job.
Right now anyway I’m worried. Bello is still in a coma and he hasn’t woken up. God please heal him, and bring him back. I didn’t know him for long but I know he’s a great guy and I know his work on earth isn’t over. So please, bring him back.
1 year later. Fola.
“What are you doing?” asked Stephen as I tried to carry a big carton of detergents.
“Trying to carry this into the house “I replied, as I opened my legs wide and got down on a squat with my big belly right in front of the carton putting one hand on my waist.
“But you are 7 months pregnant” he said, and then added like I was probably losing a screw in the head.
“Are you ok?” I looked at him furrowing my brows,
“of course I’m ok. What a pregnant woman can’t lift heavy things again?”I asked like I had actually lost a screw in my head.
“Yes Fola a pregnant woman cannot lift heavy loads. In fact she is told by her doctors not to. And I’m sure your doctor told you not to” then as quickly as his long legs could carry him, he pushed me carefully to the side and away from the carton, he then bent down and carried it liked it was a piece of paper and then walked into the house leaving me staring at him. That boy is becoming a huge pain in my behind.
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“what’s up?” I looked up from my office desk to the human being talking to me. it was Kenneth.
“What?” I asked, without feeling. My voice was blank, like totally blank, like I wasn’t interested in seeing him, like he was currently in my space and I wanted him gone.
“Haba, is that how you treat a friend?” he asked feeling hurt. But I know he isn’t. It’s just an act that I’m currently getting used to.
A few weeks after Fola got back and the whole introduction had been done between him, Fola and Michael, Kenneth here has always been in my space. He won’t just let me be. I mean what is it? Why won’t he leave me alone? I have had enough of men in my life. You see, No one knows this but Michael, but a few years ago, ok it was 3 years ago.
The guy I dated was a total douche. He would beat me, insult me in public, degrade me and manipulate me and stupid of me I would leave him but return back after he begs to change.
The final straw was drawn when I was hospitalized because of him. I had a broken wrist, two broken ribs, and a concussion. This guy beat me to half of my life; I was almost dead when Michael found me. Actually, when he beat me and caused all those injuries on me, I stopped moving. This happened at his apartment around 7 in the evening.
We were arguing over the fact that he was always surrounded by girls and he would bring these girls home. The idiot said he is a man so he can do whatever he wants. That’s how the argument began. Next thing I know, I’m being used as a punching bag. I passed out because the pain was too much, but the fool thought I was dead. And so he wrapped me up in his duvet, placed me in the back seat of his car, and then drove out dumping me under a bridge in Lagos.
Luckily for me, Michael was driving behind him and God just made it in way that Michael got suspicious of him. I don’t know maybe it was because of the way he was driving, who knows? But anyway I’m glad Michael followed him And so, once he had dropped me and then drove off not checking if anyone saw him (like I said he’s a fool). Michael swooped in and took care of me by rushing me to the hospital. He paid all of my hospital bills right to the tee. Without caring how much it cost.
A day later I gained consciousness and the doctors asked if I wanted to make a report. I told them no cause I wanted the idiot out of my life for good. Michael didn’t like it but he said nothing.
A few weeks later I was myself again. Michael and I kept in touch, and then suddenly one day, he offered me a job as a secretary in his security agency. I was totally stoked. I mean knowing the kind of girl I am I was surprised to see him offer me a job. Well, I accepted his offer of course I mean who wouldn’t? And so it began.
Me working with Michael smith, one of the most dangerous feared men in Lagos state. He saved me and I’ll forever be in his debt. And that’s why I have sworn off men. Yes I am never getting married, never having kids except if I want to adopt one. But yeah that’s it for me with the male gender. I’m done with them.
“Are you hungry?” asked Kenneth.
“You’re still here?” I replied getting out of memory lane.
“Yep” he said, He didn’t even mind that I was treating him in a bad way. Maybe he’s getting used to it. I wanted to tell him no but it was at that moment that my stupid tummy decided to speak for itself. It growled so loud, you would think a lion was living inside.
“Well your tummy says its hungry, I guess we should feed it right?” asked the annoying human being in front of me. I looked at him, asking myself
“why me?” then I stood up grabbed my purse and phone and began to walk out of my desk but I felt a tug on my purse and sure enough, Kenneth had taken my purse out of my hand and then I watched as he tossed it into my handbag. It went straight in like he’s been playing basket ball all his life. I looked at him to ask why he did that but he beat me to it by saying.
“I pay for our meal. And any time we go out, I’ll be doing the paying” he sounded dead serious like nothing I’ll say will change his mind. Well if that’s what he wants, no wahala then. I’m down for it. At least I get to save my money, which is good. Thanks
I was looking at my past in front of me. Everything I have done right from when I was born till the day I was shot. It was like a movie. My gosh I don’t even know what to say, I mean is this a life I’ll be able to tell my kids? As I thought of this, the last scene that popped up was a scene I was not expecting. It was a girl from my past. A girl I promised myself never to relate with again, a girl that lied about me, sending me to jail for 2 years, a girl that made me join the army once I was free. And this girl was the first face I saw once my eyes opened on my hospital bed. She was the first face I saw when I woke up.
To be continued